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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046849">Show Me The World As I’d Love To See It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagedWhisper/pseuds/StagedWhisper'>StagedWhisper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bandom, I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Bullets Era (My Chemical Romance), Existentialism, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Pre-Slash, Van Days</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:16:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagedWhisper/pseuds/StagedWhisper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do we get existential now or after the album’s done playing?”</p><p>On an overnight drive in the van between shows, it's a quiet spring night with stars in the sky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Iero &amp; Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Show Me The World As I’d Love To See It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started out as a simple dialogue exercise but it quickly evolved into this lovely little slice of life, so I hope you enjoy this late night conversation between Frank and Gerard. </p><p>Set May/June 2003<br/>Title from <a href="https://youtu.be/QYAvrvglBnI?t=20">"Subterranean Homesick Alien"
</a> by Radiohead</p><p>  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1lNi0i11E9hEJWuKruPORu">Click Here for this fic's Spotify playlist 
</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s Gerard’s turn to drive, for once he sobered up enough after both their set and load out to take the wheel. Usually Brian co-pilots when he’s not the one driving, but as Gerard settles into the driver seat, he's surprised to see that it’s Frank who opens the passenger door and plops himself in the front chair. </p><p>“Eh, ‘m not sleepy yet,” Frank says, as explanation while he clicks the seatbelt in place. They rarely are both up front driving together, typically Gerard and Mikey - along with their patented Way Brother Stench - confine themselves to the back row of the van. And Frank, as tiny as he is, usually is left to find the smallest square foot of real estate in the van to wedge himself into. </p><p>“You gotta keep me awake,” Gerard says as he takes a sip of his gas station coffee. He sets it in the cup holder and puts the van in gear and pulls out of the gas station parking lot. It’s almost one thirty in the morning as they leave the outskirts of downtown Dallas, heading south on I-35. He’s thankful it's Frank riding shotgun, who won’t complain about his driving and who also is least likely to doze off in the middle of a conversation. </p><p>“How long are we driving?” </p><p>Gerard vaguely recalls the map quest directions he skimmed before folding them up into the gap between his seat and the center console, “It’s like five hours or so to San Antonio but we’ll need to gas up at some point. So either sleep at a truck stop or we power through and get there by sun up.” </p><p>“It’d be nice to see the sunrise, don’t you think?” Frank considers. He shifts in his seat, crossing his legs and getting comfortable for the long haul. </p><p>Gerard taps the steering wheel and hums in agreement. Everyone else in the van is still a little chatty, from the rear view mirror Gerard sees Mikey and Ray sprawled in the back row, Ray’s hands gesturing as he talks. He hears Brian and Otter talking over the merch boxes in the two mid rows, both sounding slightly drunk and slurry; he’s glad to see Brian relax a little. While Gerard’s not usually part of the driving rotation, there’s something about the open Texas sky and endless highway with Frank beside him, that just feels right. </p><p>“Yeah, I like how you can see the stars out in this part of the country,” Gerard says eventually. </p><p>“Hey you think we can drop by and see NASA when we pass through Houston?” </p><p>“Hell yeah,” Gerard grins. “Let’s play a set in the fuckin’ parking lot.” They laugh together while imagining the sight. </p><p>Frank rummages through the glovebox for the van’s shared CD collection. He pulls one out and pops it into the radio, then messes with the dials to keep the sound coming out of just the front speakers and turns them on low. Gerard faintly recognizes the opening chords to <em>OK Computer</em> and wonders if Frank is actually trying to lull him to sleep. Everyone else will drop like flies soon enough, thankfully they’ve all mastered the art of van sleep with earplugs and headphones. </p><p>“Radiohead, Frank?” Gerard asks, the <em>“really?”</em> hangs out there, unsaid. </p><p>Frank laughs softly and nods, “just felt like it.” </p><p>“Do we get existential now or wait until after the album’s done playing?” </p><p>“Oh there’s always time to get existential,” Frank laughs and tugs the strings of his zip up hoodie back and forth to keep his hands busy. </p><p>Gerard continues tapping on the wheel in time to the music. It’s these quiet moments in the van where he can’t believe this is his life now - just at the end of last summer he finally quit his day job at the toy design agency and now the stage is his office. Brian’s only been with them officially for just over three whole months but they’ve already been to fucking <em>Europe</em> and back. </p><p>“You know, Gee, if you stare into the abyss long enough…” </p><p>“Don’t talk about the abyss when I’m literally driving us through one,” Gerard groans with an eye-roll and makes a futile attempt at swatting his hand in Frank’s general direction, barely nudging his shoulder. </p><p>Frank laughs and sticks his tongue out at Gerard. After a breath they both calm down again and Frank says, “You know they recorded this album in a haunted castle? How fucking cool is that? Apparently Thom Yorke was like, hearing voices and shit while they were there.” </p><p>“Creepy,” Gerard agrees with a nod, “we should do that.” </p><p>“Yeah?” Frank asks, curiosity hinting at his tone. </p><p>“Yeah, I dunno about a castle but we should totally find the most haunted house to record in. It’ll be badass,” Gerard promises. He would do anything to make Frank continue looking at him like this, expression wide open and hopeful for their future. There’s an uncomfortable seed of a feeling growing in his chest, Gerard recognizes it as vanity and pride. While he regards Frank as his best friend and equal, Gerard basks in the feeling when Frank looks at him like he holds all the answers to the universe. He’s well aware he fucking <em>preens</em> under the attention, but that hasn’t stopped him yet. </p><p>Frank laughs, breaking Gerard from his thoughts, “I wanna see a ghost try to write a guitar solo.” Frank’s high pitched giggle is music to Gerard’s ears. </p><p>“That’d be fucking awesome.” It occurs to Gerard that for all the ghostly and spiritual imagery they surround themselves in, he’s not sure if he’s ever asked Frank point-blank before about his beliefs about the beyond. He turns his head for a moment to look over at Frank, he’s kicked his feet up to press against the glovebox and he’s tapping his hands against the holes in his jeans right at the knees. Gerard tries to sound casual and asks, “do you… you know? Believe in ghosts? Like for real?” </p><p>Frank nods, and runs a hand through his spiked, faded copper hair, tugging at the short ends at the base of his neck, “I’ve read this quote - Einstein said something, like, ‘the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.’ It goes more into detail than that but I think what he meant was that if you don’t believe in any kind of magic or mystery you’re basically as good as dead. So I guess if even fucking Einstein said so - there, um, must be something out there. Including ghosts,” Frank answers. </p><p>Gerard considers it, “Yeah, I’d say my guess is that if there’s any kind of magic or God or whatever, it wouldn’t be found within any of us, ourselves - but like in the spaces in between. I like to believe there’s some kind of mystical core to the universe, but, uh, we all try to find ways to quantify that in our minds.” </p><p>“But we <em>can’t</em> quantify it. Some people think they’ve got it figured out, but how can you know? I know there’s something out there, but I don’t think I’ll ever figure out what exactly that is in my lifetime. And I think that’s the whole point, to not know.” </p><p>Gerard nods as he listens, Frank’s never really offered up a full deep dive into his disentanglement from the catholic church, but if it’s anything like Gerard’s experience, Frank’s sweeping it under the rug and shoving it into a box of things to sort through <em>later.</em> But there’s one thing Gerard’s slowly learning as he stumbles through his quarter life crisis, and he takes another sip of his coffee before sharing. “Exactly. And if there’s any kind of pure magic in this world, it’s in the attempt of understanding it all, in that faith of it. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed but, uh, who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.” </p><p>Frank’s quiet for a beat, his expression looks like he’s considering Gerard’s words. They listen to the end of <em>‘Subterranean Homesick Alien’</em> and Gerard lets himself sing along to the last few lines softly, feeling the weight of the words against his tongue. </p><p>“Doesn’t <em>Watchmen</em> talk about that kind of thing?” Frank asks after a moment. “Isn’t that why you keep telling me to read it?” </p><p>“It’s about contradictions in people’s philosophies. Like Rorschach, he’s kinda like Batman in some ways, edgy. Black and white morality. He claims to not compromise his mission for anything or anyone, but he does that anyway when it helps to further his mission.” </p><p>“Okay so a Batman wannabe?” Frank half smiles.</p><p>Gerard knows the bait Frank’s offering up, like Frank’s hoping to get a rise out of Gerard, “he’s a little like you, sometimes. You’re all punk rock give-and-take-no-shit. Except that you do. You give a shit all the time.” </p><p>“Maybe so,” Frank rolls his eyes. “Someone’s gotta.” </p><p>“It’s why I keep you around,” Gerard says. He says it like they’re still joking and ribbing on each other, but Gerard knows it's true. Frank’s become Gerard’s morality checkpoint. Sometimes the booze and the pills cloud Gerard’s judgement a little too much, and he needs Frank to nudge him in the right direction when he can’t tell what’s real or imaginary anymore. </p><p>Frank seems to let Gerard’s comment float out there, he clears his throat and asks another question to keep Gerard talking, “What about the blue guy?” </p><p>Gerard tucks a loose greasy strand of hair behind his ear, aware Frank is just humoring him but Gerard will take the inch he’s given and stretch it into a mile. “Doctor Manhattan’s basically the Superman type of character, he's superhuman. Like he can do things like see the past, present, and future all at once. But the main thing with him is he believes free will is an illusion, that everyone’s a puppet, but the difference between him and everyone else is that he has the ability to see the strings.” </p><p>Out of the corner of Gerard’s eye, he sees Frank scratch at his chin in thought. “Lemme take a guess, isn’t that how you feel sometimes?” </p><p>Gerard doesn’t answer, but through his silence they listen to a verse of <em>‘Exit Music (For A Film)’</em> play through the van speakers - <em>'You can laugh, a spineless laugh, we hope your rules and wisdom choke you. Now we are one in everlasting peace.' </em></p><p>“Maybe, yeah. I guess,” Gerard eventually admits as the song quiets down to its end. “Anyway, you should read it.” </p><p>“Yeah, I’ll get to it,” Frank says noncommittally. Truthfully, Gerard can tell Frank’s been pushing off reading it because that just means Gerard will continue to try to explain to him and badger him about it, and Gerard’s figured out that Frank likes the attention. And honestly, Gerard doesn’t mind - he’ll take the time to explain every line in great detail to Frank if that’s what he wants. </p><p>They listen to the next few songs in a comfortable silence, Gerard drinks more of his now cold coffee and Frank looks out the window as the dark highway passes them by. Most of the time Gerard’s mind is too hazy to appreciate traveling at night so he commits this moment to memory. Soft snores from the back of the van come and go in waves, Gerard looks through the rear view mirror and sees everyone else more or less slumped over and catatonic. </p><p>As the album comes toward its end, Frank pulls out the CD case from the glovebox and flips through looking for the next thing to play. “Pumpkins or Smiths?” Frank asks. </p><p>“You’re in a mood tonight,” Gerard replies, tapping his fingers along the edge of the steering wheel. “Fuck it, The Smiths,” he decides. </p><p>Frank smiles and doesn’t say anything as they wait for the song to end. Frank switches out the CDs and turns it down a notch. Gerard’s well aware that the rest of the van would start to throw things at them if disturbed from their sleep. </p><p>“Morrissey's a dick,” Frank says. “I mean, I love this album but I hate this song. Like the line <em>‘it was really nothing’</em> - like that’s such a dick move.” </p><p>“Yeah, it’s definitely a fuck-you,” Gerard agrees. “But while he’s saying one thing though, I feel like what he’s really trying to say is that he’s too scared or not ready yet to make it more than nothing. Like there's nothing he can do.” </p><p>“Either way, selfish prick. I couldn’t do that to someone - leave them hanging like that and then going off to be with someone not any better. That’s not love. That’s running.” </p><p>“Do you think love is unselfish?”</p><p>Frank’s head tilts at the question, Gerard can tell Frank looks a little confused by it. “Well yeah, you’re supposed to be, like, all open and giving to another person. Love is about choosing to stay.” Frank says. He then shifts in his seat to look at Gerard directly, waiting for a response. </p><p>Gerard catches Frank eye for a moment before turning his gaze back to the highway. He considers his words for a second and says, “I kind of see love as this, escape for two people who don’t know how to be alone. People always talk about how love is about being giving and unselfish, but if you think about it, there’s nothing more selfish than asking someone to stick with you, to stay and love you.” </p><p>“The giving part is when you choose to stay. If the asking is selfish want, then the giving is the real act of love,” Frank says. </p><p>Gerard wishes he could see the world like Frank does, it's pure and balanced in a way that Gerard can never naturally feel without a lot of effort. “If that’s what you think love is, then that’s what it is to you, and you’ll know it when you have it for real.” </p><p>“Have you been in love?”</p><p>“I thought so at the time, but now I’m not sure I was in the way that really mattered,” Gerard answers, his heart constricts, thinking of a couple different past relationships, especially the last one that fizzled out once the band started touring full time. “You?” he asks. </p><p>“I also thought so at the time, but I probably wasn’t in the way that really mattered either,” Frank echos. Frank’s quiet after that, his expression pinched and reflective. Gerard wants to reach over and smooth the worry lines from Frank’s face, but his hands are full of the steering wheel, and he almost thinks about pulling over just so he can. Maybe he should also be thinking about his past failed attempts at love, Gerard realizes. But he can’t seem to recall any of those faces at the moment. Not when he’s busy looking over to Frank. </p><p> </p><p>Frank rummages around the center console for a pack of cigarettes, he pulls a lighter from his jeans pocket and lights one up. He offers it over to Gerard and repeats the process, lighting one up for himself. Gerard takes a long drag, letting the familiar warmth rattle around in his lungs. Without looking down, Gerard’s hand hovers over the cup holder and pops the lid off to his now empty coffee cup, flicking the loose ashes from his cigarette into it. </p><p>Their conversation falls to a natural pause as they smoke, each of them considering what the other has said. Frank’s hand bumps Gerard’s when they both reach over toward the cup holder to flick their ashes into the paper cup, neither of them visibly react but Gerard knows Frank can also feel the magnetism charged between them. </p><p>Gerard hopes Frank doesn’t fall asleep any time soon, no one else in the van will indulge him on these late night talks quite like Frank does, and he wants to hear Frank push back and make Gerard question everything he knows. </p><p>“I am human and I need to be loved…”  Gerard sings along softly as he finishes his cigarette down to the filter and discards it into the coffee cup. Frank lights up another cigarette for each of them and their companionable silence stretches for a bit longer, just their shared breathing, the sounds of the radio, and the view of stars in the sky to keep them company. </p><p>The open road used to scare Gerard a little - in how their entire world is crammed inside this van and trailer that’s just rolling down the highway. With each passing mile, though, the road feels more like home instead of just some dream world he’s walking through. Gerard’s eyes pull from the road and sneak a glance at Frank in the passenger seat, still smoking his cigarette and staring ahead at the highway. </p><p>He’s fully aware that almost exactly a year ago he was selfish enough to ask Frank to stay and join the band, and now Gerard wonders how much he was also asking Frank to please stay for his own needy desires as well. The name of the feeling floats in front of Gerard’s mind and he knows it's time to make a choice - does he grasp it or does he shove it into the same proverbial box where the rest of his messes go? </p><p>“Have you ever felt the wind blow through a tree’s leaves?” Frank says, breaking their quiet moment. “Like you’re watching it happen in front of you and then you also feel the sensation of the tree? And you know what it is, what you are together.”</p><p>If Gerard didn’t know better, he’d figure that Frank’s high right now. Frank doesn’t usually get a philosophical soapbox - not without a lot of weed at least, but late night drives are an open invitation to all sorts of thoughts. But Gerard just rolls with it, and doesn’t even need to think about how to answer because the words tumble out of the corner of his mouth before he can filter them, “it's like when we look at each other on stage, you know?” </p><p>Gerard hears Frank’s intake of breath and then the sigh as he exhales, “yeah. Like that.” </p><p>“What do you think causes you to feel like that… all ubiquitous?” Gerard sees the smirk uptick on the side of Frank’s face when he hears Gerard’s vocabulary flex. </p><p>“I think it's mostly serendipitous when it happens. But sometimes, usually yeah - <em>on stage,</em> when that feeling happens it seems like… I don’t know, inevitable, I guess.” </p><p><em>Frank</em> is inevitable, Gerard thinks. He has been since the moment Gerard first saw him play up on a stage a while back. “Maybe we’re everything all at once,” he offers. “Maybe that’s the magic Einstein was talking about. We’re all just the universe experiencing itself.” </p><p>Frank nods and adds, “there’s definitely a sort of comfort in looking at it that way. Like we’re all part of each other in ways we’ll never fully know.” </p><p> </p><p>At some point the album ends and Frank switches it out from the van’s radio, like he did before. Gerard just keeps driving, attention split between the road and the passenger seat. He hears the click of Frank’s lighter on the same downbeat of the next CD Frank’s selected for them. The side of Gerard’s mouth tugs up into a grin when he hears the opening track to <em>Siamese Dream.</em> Frank really is in a mood if he’s hopping between Radiohead to The Smiths and now The Smashing Pumpkins. </p><p>Gerard glances at the time on the van's clock, 3:39 AM, it reads. They’re probably close to the halfway point to their destination. Gerard almost wants to slow down and drag this night out for a little longer. He hopes the caffeine from his coffee will carry him through the next few hours, he’s determined now to stay up talking with Frank until the sun comes up. </p><p>The lyrics <em>‘Stay cool, and be somebody's fool this year’</em> plays from the radio and Gerard’s nose scrunches up at it, “I hope we never… you know. Feel like that about the band.”</p><p>“Isn’t that why you keep saying no to all those A&amp;R guys?”</p><p>“It started that way. I think we’re ready now, but at the same time…”</p><p>Frank sighs, “yeah, I know.” </p><p>“We got something good going here, but I can’t… we can’t let someone else come in and mess it up,” Gerard takes another glance at the rear view mirror to see their manager sleeping. “Brian’s helping, we can trust him. But I’ve been afraid that the wider we make the circle the more we’ll lose control.” </p><p>“It’s always gotta be the five of us before anything else. We’ll be okay if we can stick to that,” Frank says firmly, like he’s creating a mantra for them to rely on. </p><p>“We’re ready… if I'm being honest, I know we have been for a while. I just haven’t wanted to, um, deal with that yet,” Gerard admits. </p><p>Frank nods, “we’ll need to deal with it before the offers disappear completely.” </p><p>“I know. As long as we choose someone with vision, someone with guts and gravitas, who’s connected to the kids we’re making music for and cares about making them feel better. If we choose someone to inspire us then we’ll be able to face whatever comes our way and do things we can’t even imagine yet. It’s going to be hard,” Gerard says. </p><p>“Then we’ll do what’s hard,” Frank resolves. The determined look set on Frank’s face is why Gerard was drawn to him initially, back when they first met. It’s a comfort to Gerard, he knows Frank will fight for what he believes in. And there’s nothing that Frank believes in more than their band. </p><p>“We’ll deal with it by the end of summer. Let’s tell Brian we’re ready to start taking meetings,” Gerard decides. </p><p>“Okay,” Frank nods. </p><p>Frank taps out the rhythm of <em>‘Today’</em> on his knees as they both sit and think about the band’s future. Gerard’s aware of his control freak tendencies, and he’s only just handed the reigns over to Brian, but Brian’s more than proven already that he’s the right person to take the band where it needs to go. It’s been nearly a year since they put out their record, and it's time to start thinking about what to do beyond just having enough cash to fill the van’s tank to get to the next gig. All that matters is that they keep playing shows, and that the band continues to save lives. </p><p>Gerard doesn’t let himself think about the alternative. Not tonight. Tonight’s a good night. </p><p> </p><p>They're halfway into listening to the next song when Frank speaks again, “do you ever think about what if the zombie apocalypse happened like <em>right now,</em> while we’re on tour?” </p><p>Gerard laughs, he has to put a hand over his face to keep it from being too loud. Only Frank can skip conversation topics from the serious to the trivial, and somehow still make it feel natural. “Can’t say that I have,” he answers. </p><p>“So like, what if we’re driving, right? And we see like zombies walking alongside the highway,” Frank explains. </p><p>Gerard’s head tilts in thought, “Well, we need to find somewhere to like, hole up, right? And get supplies. I assume we’re far away from Jersey in this doomsday scenario?”</p><p>Frank nods, “yeah, like right here in the middle of fuckin’ Texas. We’re a two day drive from home but… but we can’t go back to where it's densely populated. ‘Cause that’s where all the zombies are.”</p><p>“Do we, uh, just recreate <em>Dawn of the Dead</em> and find an abandoned mall?” </p><p>Frank laughs, “nah, I bet Brian has like, connections somehow. He’d find a safe house for us.” </p><p>“It’d be cool to hole up like, in a diner or something. Mikey would have to, I dunno, like learn karate or something to defend us,” Gerard imagines. “Do we get weapons?” </p><p>“We don’t have any money, but we turn our instruments into weapons. And then we keep the trailer to hold our arsenal.” </p><p>Gerard really laughs this time, “then I’m fucked, what do I do like, Indiana Jones my mic cord into a whip? Nah, I want a shotgun.” </p><p>“Yeah that’d be badass. A mic whip. Where are you gonna get a shotgun?” Frank smirks and continues tapping the song’s beat against his knees. </p><p>“Well we’re in Texas, I’m sure I can find one,” Gerard argues. They continue ideating on their zombie apocalypse scenario for a while longer. Gerard lives for this shit. It’s usually hard for him to connect with people in the way he’s able to just talk to Frank. Even if their meeting was an accident, it sure feels like destiny. </p><p> </p><p>As the Pumpkins album plays out its end, Gerard sees a sign for a truck stop just a few miles ahead and points at the billboard before they roll past it. He sees Frank nod and then turn to look back at everyone else still sleeping in the back. The dashboard clock says it's almost four thirty in the morning. </p><p>The parking lot of the Pilot truck stop looks full on one end, where all the big rigs are parked for an overnight stop, but the smaller side for cars is empty. Gerard steers them toward the empty side, preferring to limit any potential outside interactions at this time of night. As soon as he parks, Frank ducks out of the van and makes a <em>“follow me”</em> head gesture at Gerard as Gerard tucks two twenties in his pocket that Brian placed for him in the visor for gas and food. They have a system down by now - Frank’s in charge of grabbing snacks while Gerard beelines for the coffee station. </p><p>While they pay for their haul, Ray and Otter stumble inside and head toward the bathrooms. Gerard makes a note to make sure they’re back in the van before taking off again. Even if it wouldn’t be the first time they accidentally leave someone behind - he’d like to avoid that from happening again. </p><p>After gassing up the van, the other two return and immediately go back to sleep just as Gerard backs them up to the edge of the empty side of the parking lot, where they’re far enough away from the yellow-tinted fluorescent lights to look up at the sky. He gets out from the driver’s seat again and knows Frank will follow. Gerard still hasn’t decided yet if they’ll sleep here or keep going, but for now he’s content to continue his conversation with Frank for as long as Frank wants. </p><p>“Stand here for a minute,” Gerard says, patting at the graffitied door of the trailer where he's leaning. Frank moves to the empty spot beside Gerard and together they both smoke and look up at the stars in the wide open sky. </p><p>The sun should start to rise in maybe another hour or two, Gerard figures as he looks at the colors swirling above. About a third of the moon is visible tonight - he vaguely recalls the scientific term is something like waxing or waning - leaving the sky half covered in darkness. They’re the only people on this side of the parking lot, probably the only ones awake in the whole truck stop besides the gas station attendants inside. </p><p>He’s reminded of the famous panel in <em>Watchmen</em> - of Doctor Manhattan alone sitting on mars with the words <em>‘Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?’</em> underneath in the margins. Frank wasn’t wrong when he insinuated that Gerard feels like Doctor Manhattan sometimes. He’s felt like that more often than he cares to admit. </p><p>But right now? With Frank standing beside him close enough that their elbows and shoulders nearly bump against each other, he feels grounded to earth in this moment. Gerard lets himself focus on the feel of the cool steel of the trailer against his back, the crunch of the gravel under his shoes, and the almost misty breeze of the early pre-dawn morning.  </p><p>“I am going to look at the stars. They are so far away, and their light takes so long to reach us… all we ever see of stars are their old photographs,” Gerard recites from the graphic novel softly, so softly it's like he’s only mouthing the words to feel the shape of them against his mouth, while waving his hands around as if he’s holding onto a polaroid in one hand and his cigarette in the other. </p><p>He finishes his cigarette and presses out the end of it against the trailer. His hand comes up to tangle in his overgrown hair, he tugs the ends and swirls it around absentmindedly. They both continue to look up at the stars, Gerard tries to pick out constellations but he was always shit at remembering more than just the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt. In his defense, growing up a stone’s throw away from New York meant he could never really see the stars out beyond the glow of the city lights. </p><p>“Isn’t um… Isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?” Frank wonders aloud, resuming their earlier conversation. He takes a step away from the trailer, making a show of tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it under his Etnies. Gerard recognizes the tactic on display, Frank’s physically trying to shrug off the vulnerability in his words. He’s done the same move a million times, himself. </p><p>“I think a lot of people have these, uh, romantic projections and they throw themselves into relationships because they’re afraid of being single, and then they start making compromises and slowly lose their identity.” Gerard swallows and whispers guiltily, “I’ve done that.” </p><p>“People can live their whole life as a lie,” Frank replies, taking a step closer to Gerard. “I wonder if being alone is better than sitting next to your lover and feeling lonely.” </p><p>“Someone out there loves you,” Gerard promises, like a secret. His gaze starts at Frank’s shoes and drags upward, soaking in the full sight of Frank standing in front of him from head to toe. <em>‘Me’,</em> says the small voice in the back of Gerard’s mind.  </p><p>Frank takes another step closer and presses the palms of his hands flat against Gerard’s chest, pinning him to the back of the trailer, “would you... would you stay right here, with me?” Frank asks. </p><p>Gerard knows he’s recalling their earlier discussion about the selfishness of love. If Frank’s really asking this of him, then Gerard wants to fill in the unselfish part and create a shared balance of give and take. Gerard tilts his head down and and slowly, all too slowly, inches his lips closer to Frank’s until they’re kissing. He can taste the lingering nicotine on Frank’s tongue, and he feels hyper aware of the cold bite from the lip ring, but mostly Gerard loses himself in the <em>Frank</em> of it all. Gerard’s hands come up to cup Frank’s elbows, letting him continue to hold Gerard in place against the trailer. </p><p>Their kiss breaks when Gerard pulls back just a little, he can feel his own breath, warm on Frank’s cheek as he answers, “yes.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's lots of references in this one! Which ones did you catch? </p><p>You can also find me on Tumblr at <a href="https://broken-city-sky.tumblr.com/">Broken-City-Sky</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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